One Stray Bullet
by Scarlet Seer
Summary: Near only beat Light by luck. What if things had gone differently? AU diverging at Chapter 74, includes Light, Mello, Matt, OC, and others.
1. Sunrise, Sunset

"Your real name is Mihael Keehl, spelled M-I-H-A-E-L and K-E-E-H-L," Vice-Director Yagami said.

Mello's eyes widened, but he didn't let go of the switch.

_Calmly_, Yagami thought. It wasn't the first time he'd had to talk criminals down, but Mello seemed particularly unstable. "Give up, Mello," he said. "If you surrender, I won't kill you."

"Don't be an idiot! Write down his name and kill him!" the Vice-Director's son, Light, shouted into his headset.

His father ignored him. "If I write down your name in this notebook, you will die," he said reasonably. "Drop that switch and put your hands in the air."

"Ha," snorted Mello. "You can't threaten me. If you try to write down my name, I'll press the button."

"Do it then," Yagami said. "I don't care about my life anymore. I'd happily give up my own life if it means that you'd die as well." _There. It's on the table now. Both of us are willing to die rather than loose._

"Don't play cool with me, Yagami," Mello said. "You might be satisfied, but what about your men? Can you sacrifice all of them?"

"They are my men. They are prepared to face death," Yagami said. _I have to make him see that he has more to loose_. "Trust me, everybody. In this game, the loser is the one who yields," _he must know that already_, "I don't know how serious the blast is. If there are any survivors, it would be my men, who are fully-armored. If I hold on to the notebook, it shouldn't get damaged beyond use. Give it up, Mello! The only way you'll live through this is to surrender. Throw down that switch!"

Mello decided to change tacks. "Yagami…you've never killed anybody before, have you?" he asked.

Yagami began to sweat more than before, but he began writing. Mello started forward, but Yagami barked, "Don't move! I have only your last name left! It'll take me less than a second. Give up and be arrested!"

Mello noticed movement out of the corner of his eye; one of his allies, Jose, wasn't really dead and was rolling over to grab his gun. _I've won_, he realized. Grinning, he said, "Sorry, Yagami. I had no intention of killing you, but you've allied yourself with Kira. You should have written my name quickly." Yagami was looking at him intensely. _If I can just distract him for a few more minutes_, he thought.

Jose almost had his gun… Now he had it! Several things happened at once. Yagami heard the gun being cocked, looked back over his shoulder at Jose. At the same time, Jose fired the gun at the Vice-Director's throat. Blood spurted everywhere and Yagami collapsed.

Light heard the gunfire blasting over his headset. "Everyone, go in!" he screamed.

The NPA began to fire their guns at the lock.

"Jose, get the notebook," Mello said.

Jose tried to pry it out of Yagami's hands, but he still held it tightly. "It's no use…He's not letting go of the notebook."

"He's still alive?" Mello asked, startled. Yagami had been hit in the throat; you didn't live long from a wound like that. The NPA sounded like they were close to breaking down the door. Mello put the gas mask to his face, and Jose pointed his gun at Yagami's chest.

_BANG!_ The door swung inward, and the NPA task force burst through. Before either Jose or Mello had time to do anything, they were surrounded by gunfire. Mello turned away from the door and got ready to detonate his explosives, but before he could do anything, he felt a pain in his back, then numbness. _So this is what it feels like to be shot_, he thought._ Funny, I thought it would hurt more_. A second shot struck him in the back of his head, and he fell to the ground.

Back at headquarters, Light Yagami could hear nothing but explosions and gunfire, followed by silence. "Do you read me?" he shouted. "Vice-Director! Aizawa! Mogi! Ide! Matsuda!"

After several moments, the radio came back to life. "L, this is Mogi. Mello and his colleagues are dead. The Vice-Director was shot in the neck…he's bleeding seriously. He still has the notebook. We should get an ambulance."

"Understood," Light said. "Ide, please bring the notebook the Vice-Director had and the other notebook back."

"I'll take the Vice-Director to the hospital," Mogi said.

Later that day, Vice-Director Yagami died of blood loss due to a gunshot wound.

O

Roger was neatening his desk for the day when the cell phone beeped. He picked it up with dread; only a few people had this number, and it was rarely used for good news. It was a simple text message: _Mello is dead. –Matt_

Roger sighed deeply. Heaven knew, it wasn't a surprise. Mello had always been so impulsive, so reckless. He was clever, but he didn't think through things as…well, as Near did. Roger mentally chided himself for always comparing the two boys. It certainly didn't make it easier on either of them that they were always being compared. _Had always been_ compared, he corrected himself. _I'll have to tell Simo_, he realized. _Let's see. It's three-thirty, so she should be in the library right now_. He crossed the grounds, entered the library, and found Simo there, sitting where she always sat, with her books, notes, and laptop arrayed precisely in front of her.

She was really a very pretty thirteen-year-old, though she would have snapped at anyone who presumed to tell her so. She had dark, shoulder-length, straight hair, hazel eyes, and dark skin which betrayed her Roma ancestry. She wore a sleeveless blue tank top and comfortably snug blue jeans. She looked at Roger curiously, but didn't say anything.

"Simo," Roger said, "will you come to my office, please?"

Without question, she packed her things into a backpack and followed him.

They went into his office. Simo seated herself in a chair facing his desk. Roger turned towards the window, trying to gather his thoughts. Outside, some of the children were playing on the lawn, the same lawn where Mello used to play football. There were pictures on the ledge, too, of Watari. His most cherished photo held center place, the picture of Watari and himself after they returned from Korea. He had to carry sad news then, too. He steeled himself and turned to face Simo.

Before he got the chance to say anything, Simo said, "He's dead, isn't he? Mello, I mean."

"Yes," he said simply. "I'm sorry. I know you were—"

"And Matt?" she interrupted.

"He's alive. He was the one who informed me," said Roger.

"And is Near is still working on the case?" she said, with a hint of distaste in her voice.

"Yes," he said.

"I see," she said. "Thank you for telling me." She stood and quietly left the room, her back stiff.

Simo went back to her room instead of returning to the library. The other residents who saw her go by realized something serious must have happened; Simo was precise to the point of zealotry. She went to her room, shut the door, and sat on the floor.

Tears threatened to come to her eyes, but Simo blinked them back fiercely. _You knew this could happen_, she scolded herself. _**He**__ knew this could happen; it's not like he went in with his eyes closed_. But that wasn't exactly true.

He was so impulsive. All the way through school, he'd always get into trouble because he didn't think before he acted. Matt usually managed to dig him out before he got in too deep, though.

_Poor Matt_, she thought for the first time. _This'll be very hard on him, too_. The Wammy's House kids were rivals, competitors, sometimes friends, but never family. They couldn't be, because each of them had to be willing to sever all ties with the world and become L. But Mello and Matt weren't like that; they had been brothers and best friends.

According to tradition, when Mello and Near became active successors, Matt should have stayed at Wammy's House and prepared. But he chose to go help Mello, instead. "He gets into too much trouble when I'm not around," he had told Simo. And that was the last she heard about either of them. Until today.

Before she realized what she was doing, she got a suitcase out of her closet and began packing her things. It didn't take very long. When she was done, she went to see Roger.

"I'm going to find Matt. What information do you have about his whereabouts?" she asked.

Roger sighed. "Simo, why do you need to know that? He'll probably come back on his own, anyway."

"I want to know for very human and utterly irrational reasons," she said. "Please give me your information, and the standard stipend for travel arrangements."

He gave up; there really wasn't any point in arguing with her. "He called from a cell phone, the kind where you buy time by the minute. It was a number from New Mexico in America, somewhere in the eastern part of the state. Beyond that, I only know that Mello had been involved in the Mafia."

_Stupid, stupid, Mello_, she thought. _You got in __**way**__ over your head_.

"Thank you," she said. "I will leave now."

O

It wasn't easy to track Matt. Unlike Mello, he preferred to stay indoors, and when he did go out, he didn't really look _that _unusual. It took her several months to find him. She finally tracked him down by finding P.O. boxes which regularly received deliveries of video games, and which were within walking distance of gas stations which sold cigarettes by the carton, and which had no security cameras. There were a 138 possibilities in New Mexico.

She was doing surveillance on the 98th, a box in the unlikely-named town of Hope, NM when she found him. He slumped towards the box, puffing intently on a cigarette. It was chilly, only about 8ºC, so he was huddled down into his quilted vest. She waited until he got closer, then stepped out. "Hi, Matt."

He half-smiled, went to open his box, and asked, "What took you so long?"

"You're not the easiest guy to find, you know," she said.

"Really? And I wasn't even trying to hide," he said.

"What game is it today?" she asked.

"Demonic Fury II," he said. They looked at each other awkwardly, neither of them sure what to say. "There's no point in standing in the cold," he said finally. "You might as well come back to my place."

Matt lived in a ramshackle apartment complex with peeling paint and several broken windows. His room had all the blinds closed, and the primary sources of light were the three computer monitors perched on what might once have been a desk. He shoved an ashtray and some papers off a chair and offered Simo a seat. She grimaced, but made herself sit down on the chair.

"So," she said, "what happened?"

"What, not even so much as a 'How've you been'?" he complained. She looked at him icily. He sighed deeply, pulled out a cigarette, and lit it. "Not much to tell, really," he said. "Mello thought he could find good allies in the mafia. Lots of their faces and names are unknown, and they hate Kira." He took a drag and breathed out.

"I said it was too dangerous to team up with them, but Mello didn't listen. So I stayed behind, but I kept an eye on him. I know that he kidnapped the daughter of a member on the Japanese task force, and that he got some kind of ransom, but I don't know what."

_Why would he do that? _Simo thought. _What could he have possibly wanted from the NPA badly enough to kidnap someone for it? Could it be because Kira was in Japan? But what does that have to do with the NPA? Did Mello think Kira was involved with them somehow?_

"Soon after that, Mello contacted me and said a bunch of things which didn't make much sense. He said Kira kills by writing names in a notebook, and he said that the notebook comes from some kind of other world where Grim Reapers live. He was also going on about a false rule. I couldn't get anything out of him before he cut the line."

Simo sat in silence. _A Grim Reaper?_ she thought._ A notebook which kills people?_ It was almost too bizarre to be believed. _No, it's no stranger than a person who can kill using only a face and a name_, she corrected herself._ And what can he have meant by a 'false rule'?_

He continued "The NPA raided Mello's stronghold, apparently to retrieve the ransom. He was shot and killed during that raid."

Simo sat quietly, watching the smoke swirl in the light of Matt's computers. _Ironic,_ she thought. _All that fuss, and he was killed by perfectly ordinary police. He didn't even get the dignity of being killed by Kira._

Matt discreetly left her in the living area while he went to the kitchen. _What were you doing, Mello?_ she asked silently.

A few minutes later, Matt came in with two paper plates and some reheated pizza. "It's not great pizza," he said, "but it's not bad, either."

"There's no such thing as good pizza," Simo said, but she accepted the plate anyway.

Matt carefully opened his package and extracted his new CD. He popped it in and plugged in his game controller. The main screen appeared. "Can I play, too?" Simo asked.

"Sure," he said.


	2. Games

As a child, Simo ignored the other kids at Wammy's House. After some observation, she had concluded they wouldn't be important until she worked her way up through the ranks, and to do that, she had to focus on her schoolwork. At the moment, she was doing a project contrasting the judicial systems of eastern and western Europe. In addition to having a massive library and electronic database, Wammy's House also had one of the best microfilm collections in England. Unfortunately, the reader was kept in the computer lab.

The computer lab was not one of the quieter places in Wammy's House. While all the students had their own computers, many students used the more powerful computers in the labs for some things. Like gaming. One of the older students, Matt, was there all the time. That was all right, because Matt was mostly quiet when he was playing a game. However, his friend Mello was loud and obnoxious. He didn't play often, but he hovered around the lab, toying with the equipment. He always had some candy with him, and he never cleaned up the wrappers. Sometimes, he even left sticky fingerprints on the keys. It drove her crazy. But when he got chocolate on the microfilm reader, it was the last straw.

Matt was typing away on a computer, absentmindedly slicing bunnies with a sword. At the moment, Mello was standing behind him, munching on yet another chocolate bar and watching over Matt's shoulder. "Get that one," he said. "Now that one over there!" As near as Simo could tell, Matt was ignoring him.

"Excuse me," she said to Mello. He gave her a what-is-this-thing-and-why-is-it-talking-to-me look. She looked up into his eyes firmly and said, "Food is not permitted in the computer lab, and I would greatly appreciate it if you would stop getting chocolate on the equipment."

"Get lost, kid," he said. "What are you going to do, tell on me?" While it was not forbidden to tattle, it was considered a sign of weakness to depend on adults for support.

"I'll challenge you," she said, "to a duel."

"Ha! Like I'm going to beat up a six-year-old. And a girl, too."

"Not a crude physical brawl," she answered coolly. "A competition, via the computer."

She crossed the room and examined the selection. She grabbed a jewel case out. "Shall we say _Starcraft_? That should be simple enough even for you."

In her time in the lab, Simo had noticed that Mello watched Matt instead of playing him. Considering Mello's infamously competitive nature, she concluded that he probably didn't play because he wasn't good enough to beat Matt. Therefore, she thought she might have a chance to beat him. At any rate, by stinging his ego, she was pretty sure she could get him to agree. She wasn't wrong.

"All right," Mello said. "Let's play."

Mello _was_ reasonably good; Simo thought he could probably have beaten most casual players. However, he tended to be impulsive and reckless in the game. By taking time to set up ambushes, she forced him to make sudden decisions. It wasn't an easy win, but she did beat Mello in that game. In disgust, he stalked away.

After Mello left the room, Matt, who had been watching them for the last half of the game, came over to her side of the computer. "Hey, if you ever want to play against me," he said. "I'd be up for it."

Simo hadn't really had any objective beyond getting Mello's sticky hands away from the equipment she wanted to use, but she had no particular objection to playing games with Matt.

"All right," she agreed.

O O O

Simo woke up with a crick in her neck. The sofa which usually served as Matt's bed was not well-padded, and the extra cushion he usually used as a pillow was lumpy. Still, she was probably more comfortable than Matt right now. He was sprawled crossways on an armchair, his head hanging slightly upside-down. An ashtray with several cigarettes lay on the floor next to him. Simo noticed that he still had a burnt-out cigarette in his hand. _Honestly_, she thought. _One of these days, he's going to set himself on fire_.

She got up, stretched the kinks out of her muscles, and started tidying up. She started with the ashtray. She wet down all the old cigarettes, threw them and the ashes away, and left the tray in the sink. Matt didn't generally believe in reusable dishes, so there weren't too many others to do. She collected a few mugs and second ashtray, and settled down to wash what little there was.

As she began scrubbing one of the cups, she was surprised to feel tears prickling in her eyes. How often had she tidied up for Mello before he left? She disliked disorder, so she was forever throwing away his candy wrappers and wiping fingerprints off things. It rather amused him, actually, unlike Near, who had a conniption the first and only time she dared to neaten up his toys. That had been how she and Mello had become friends, really.

After she beat Mello in the video game, she and Matt often played each other. He almost always beat her at first, but she got very good very quickly, especially at games which involved strategy. Mello watched them both, although he did stop touching the equipment when his hands were dirty, as he had agreed. Simo and Matt became friends in a way, but Mello was just there.

One day, she had been tidying up one of the playrooms in the Wammy's House. Near's toy robots were strewn all over the floor, and Simo began to put them away. Near came up behind her and grabbed her. He didn't even say anything; he just hit her in the face. It wasn't the blow itself that frightened her; it was that he hit her with absolutely no expression in his face.

Suddenly, Mello yelled, "You son of a bitch!" He practically flew at Near, and began hitting him. The ferocity of their fight startled Simo. She had heard about their rivalry, but she hadn't been expecting that they would fight like this. They weren't just wrestling; they were really trying to hurt each other.

In the end, supervisors pulled the two apart. Since Near had more serious injuries, they took him to the infirmary first. No one thought it would be a good idea to treat both boys in the same room at the moment. An aide got a first aid kit and began to patch Mello up. Simo sat down by him. "Um, thanks," she said uncertainly.

"I didn't really do it for you," he said. "I just wanted an excuse to hit Near."

She couldn't help laughing, half with relief. Having Mello defend her honor would be awkward. "I don't blame you," she said.

Even though Mello had been seven years older than she, she'd been more like his mother. She remembered one time when Mello was fourteen, he got into a fight with someone, and they had to get stitches. Oh, the tongue-lashing she gave him! "Of all the irresponsible, self-centered, obnoxious things to do! I mean, I don't expect all that much of you, but could you possibly avoid sending other children to the hospital?" She had stopped suddenly when she noticed that he actually had tears in his eyes. She didn't know how to react; Mello usually ignored whatever she said.

"Dumb girl!" he yelled, and stormed out of the room.

_He was so…juvenile sometimes_. Of course, he **was **a juvenile at that point, but the Wammy's House kids generally behaved more maturely. Simo finished drying the dishes and put them away. She took the ashtray back into the living room and flipped on the television. The morning news was playing. She was just neatening up Matt's papers when she heard the phrase "Kira's new spokesperson…"

She looked up and saw the headline: **Kira Chooses New Spokesperson after Sakura TV Fiasco.** Below the main menu, the news ticker explained "Kiyomi Takada was announced as the new Kira spokesperson at 9 G.M.T…Takada will convey messages from Kira, controversial vigilante…Takada is a newscaster for the Japanese news station, NHN."

_Well, that's interesting_, she thought. _Still, that's Near's responsibility right now. The little bastard wanted it enough._

O O O

Light knew the importance of props. Women were so easy to impress, if you just used a little time and planning. He booked a very expensive suite in the top of a hotel, with a view of Tokyo Tower. He set up some quiet music in the background, and turned to his own appearance. He had already arranged for his suit coat and shirt to be professionally pressed; they would be ready shortly. He neatly brushed his hair, shaved, and dressed.

He called Takada and told her where he was staying. Then, he dimmed the lights slightly, and stood by the window, as if he had been musing over the view when she arrived. She entered right on cue. He turned to her and smiled warmly. "Miss Takada," he said, "I've wanted to meet you."

The evening went as well as Light had hoped. They sat in chairs across from each other in the dim room, and talked. On the surface, Light was talking about Kira, and telling that the NPA would cooperate with him. With his gestures and his eyes, Light was saying _I'm here and you're here. You are special and beautiful, and I want to get to know you better_. Inside, Light could scarcely keep from snickering. _Women are always so easy to deceive_, Light thought. _Takada is merely a tool I can use to contact my more useful servant, Mikami_.

They spoke for almost an hour before Takada said, "I need to go now."

Light rose and opened the door for her, the image of the perfect gentlemen. Pretending reluctance, he asked, "Miss Takada, may I see you tomorrow as well?"

"I don't think Kira will answer so quickly, even if I make your appeal tomorrow," she said.

"That wasn't what I meant," he said. He let his implication hang between them.

The next day, Light called Takada, who again agreed to meet him. _Perfect_, Light thought. _It should be safe to push a little further_. When she walked in hotel room door that evening, Light gently approached and embraced her.

He felt her stiffen at first, but she relaxed into him almost instantly. She murmured, "I…I wonder if this is all right." He began to draw her in for a kiss, but her cell phone interrupted them.

She disengaged herself and got her cell phone from her bag. "Sorry," she said.

"It's all right. I understand that you're busy," Light said, making his tone both understanding and slightly disappointed.

She listened to the phone, her eyes widening. "It's Kira!" she gasped. "He says to watch Sakura TV."

_What are you doing, Mikami?_ Light wondered. Without a word, Light turned on the television, just in time to see an announcer collapse and die.

He turned to Takada, who was listening intently. She answered, "No, I'm in a hotel room with a friend of mine." Her face blanched, and she stammered, "Y-yes, he advised me, but I acted according to my judgment." After a moment, she offered the phone to Light. "He told me to give you the phone."

_What are you doing, Mikami?_ Light wondered. He put the phone to his ear and said, "Speaking."

A garbled voice on the other end asked, "Are you God?"

"Yes," said Light.

O O O

The first time Matt went out, Simo took the opportunity to clean up more thoroughly.

"_What_ is this?" he demanded, when he came back.

"It's your apartment. I know you may not recognize it, now that I've dug it out," she said.

"But…where are my papers?" he said.

"In those files," she said, pointing to several neat stacks on a shelf. "Your CD's are on the counter. I alphabetized them."

Matt went to his perfectly neat stacks of papers, and started rooting through them. "I was working on these," he complained. "It'll take me ages to find everything again."

"You can't have been working on them vary hard," she retorted. "Some of them were under the sofa or under the chairs. I even found one shoved in a drawer in the bathroom."

Matt ultimately found his papers, and promptly spread them all over the apartment again. After a week of Matt making messes and Simo cleaning them up such that he couldn't find his things, it became apparent to both of them that Simo would need her own apartment. Matt arranged for a second room with the landlady, who didn't ask any questions.

As Simo moved her few things into the room, she wondered why she didn't simply go back to Wammy's House. Most likely, Roger would prefer to have her there, since she would be the next L if Near died.

_I am probably being irrational_, she decided. _Still, there isn't anything so pressing right now that I can't afford to be irrational. Mello is dead, and I want to be with Matt right now. We might fight, but he's as close to a brother as I've got._

O O O

Inside the abandoned warehouse, Light concluded that everything had gone as planned. Mikami had pretended to be judging with a notebook, a notebook which was actually fake. In order to make the notebook seem real, he had text-messaged Takada, who had several notebook pages, with the names of people who ought to be judged. Near had fallen for his trap, and had modified the fake notebook. But that modified notebook was not the one Mikami had today, not the one in which he was writing names at this very moment. Today, Mikami would judge Near, the SPK, and the NPA with the real Death Note.

Light called, "Whoever's outside, are you done writing down all the names?"

"Yes, I am," a voice answered. Light wanted to laugh, but he held back.

Near said, "Mikami Teru, if you don't mind, would you come in, please?"

There was no answer. "Mikami Teru," said Light. "Don't just hide there, come inside."

A man with lanky black hair, and dark, wild eyes burst through the door. "I am at your command, God," he said.

"How long has it been since you wrote down the first person's name?" asked Light.

"35…36…37…" he muttered.

_Three more seconds_, Light thought. _38…39… _"Near, I win," Light said aloud.

The NPA and the SPK task forces looked at Light in horror. Near looked unsurprised, and tried to say something. He clutched his chest, and gasped. "How…did you…" he began, but collapsed on the ground before he could finish.

Linder and Mogi tried to tackle Light, but Linder didn't even make it across the room. Mogi managed to land a hefty punch on Light's face before Mikami attacked. "How dare you touch God!" he screamed. "How dare you!" Mogi took several hits before he died. Less than a minute later, everyone but Light and Mikami was dead. Mikami was still standing over Mogi's corpse, panting in fury.

Light wiped a bit of blood from his cheek. "Leave him, Mikami," he said. "Come to me."

Teru fell to his knees and crawled to Light. He stared up into Light's face adoringly. "God?"

"You have done well," Light said. "Will you swear allegiance to me?"

Mikami bowed before him. "I swear that I will dedicate my life to thee, God, and that I will die before I betray thee."

"Very well," said Light. "Let's go see our new world."

Light sent Mikami to get some gasoline to destroy the warehouse. As Mikami was leaving, Ryuk said, "Hey, tell him to get some apples, too."

"Certainly, Ryuk," Light said. "Mikami," he called.

He turned around and said, "Yes, God?"

"Get a dozen apples, as well," Light said.

"Of course," Mikami said, bowing.

When Mikami had gone, Light went back inside and looked at the bodies. All his enemies were there, at his feet, even Near. What was he, perhaps eighteen? He was smaller than Light had imagined, a laughable figure in pajamas and socks, and with messy white hair.

He began to laugh. "What do you say, Near? I've won! You thought you were so clever, that you could succeed where even L failed? But I killed L, and I killed you! What do you say to that?" Suddenly, he realized that he was shaking an unresisting corpse and let Near's body fall to the ground.

Behind him, Ryuk chuckled. "Are you so sure there aren't any more like him?" he asked.

"I'll take care of that," he said. "Now I just have to focus on building my ideal world."

Light heard the sound of a car approaching from outside. It was Mikami. He had gasoline and apples.


	3. Waiting

In the now-empty hotel which had once been L's base, Light sat and pored over the available photographs and maps of Whammy's House. Even though it was in a sparsely-populated area, there were more than he expected; apparently, even an orphanage with a secret mission couldn't exist without leaving some trail. He'd even been able to find a picture of the current headmaster. The man who was identified as Roger Robinson, but Mikami had told him the man's true name was Roger Ruvie.

Light took out the Death Note and wrote a single name. Ryuk loomed over his shoulder. "So, L's school," he said. "You won't be able to use the Death Note because you don't have names or photographs."

"The Death Note isn't the only way to kill people, Ryuk," Light said calmly. He pulled out a folder of dossiers in it. "These are the names and profiles of Kira supporters who live in the area around Whammy's House. I've selected two dozen whose past history makes their true loyalties questionable."

"But what good does that do?" Ryuk asked. "You can't use one person to kill another."

"As I said, the Death Note isn't the only way to kill people." Light rose from his chair and connected a switchboard to the main computer. With a few keystrokes, he called the cell phones of every person in his dossier simultaneously. More than three fourths answered. Into the scrambling microphone, Light said, "I am Kira. If you are alone and near a television, turn it to BBC. A reporter who opposed me will die. If you are not alone or near a television, you can check the accuracy of my statements later."

Light looked across the room, at a television set to BBC. Right on schedule, the reporter whose name he had written clutched her chest and collapsed. Light continued, "You will obtain a gun and come to the following address at 9:30 PM tonight." He recited the address of Whammy's House twice. "You will not tell anyone about this order. Confirm that you understand and will come by pressing the number one."

The computer displayed confirmation from all of them. "Good," he said. "Someone will meet you there." Light ended the call and began to write.

O O O

Mikami's cell phone beeped softly. He opened it and read the text message, which simply said: **832**. Mikami looked at his watch. It was a very nice watch, very accurate. God had given it to him. It even had a piece of the Death Note hidden in it, just like God's did. Right now, the watch read 8:26. Mikami picked up a bundles of closed bags and approached the gates of Wammy's House. He waited patiently. Exactly at 8:32, Mikami saw the front door open and a man approached the gate. As his name came into focus, Mikami saw that it was indeed Roger Ruvie. Mikami smiled. God's plan was working perfectly.

Ruvie opened the gate. Mikami gave him the bundle and turned to go. He was surprised to hear the man say, "Do I need to sign anything?"

"No," Mikami answered in English.

"Very well," Ruvie said. "Have a pleasant evening."

Mikami walked away without answering. He had nothing to say. Ruvie was not righteous; he was raising children to bring down God.

Mikami concealed himself in the copse of trees which God had told him about. It was cold and damp, but Mikami didn't mind. At 9:25, the first man appeared. Ten minutes later, they had all arrived. They seemed nervous, unsure. Mikami stepped out of the trees. "Good evening," he said coolly. "I was sent by Lord Kira, and I have your instructions."

O O O

Félicie Bertrand was already tired. Since she had come on duty an hour ago, she had already caught half a dozen children out of bed and sent them back to their rooms. The younger children were officially sent to bed around 9:00 PM; whether or not they slept was their own affair. Félicie suspected that this was as much for Roger's sanity as for any other reason.

When she came to one room near the end of the hall, she knocked and stepped inside. One of the occupants had a slight cold, and she wanted to make sure he had everything he needed. He was already asleep, propped up on several pillows. The overhead lights were still on, and his roommate was working on a small electronic device.

"Xou, would you mind using your lamp instead? I'd like Almu to get some proper sleep," she said.

He nodded and turned on his lamp. She had just turned to flip off the lights when there was a massive explosion and the floor heaved beneath her. She was thrown off her feet, and she curled into a ball as debris rained on her. Once it stopped, she looked around. The room was a mess, with both beds overturned and the ceiling half caved in. She could smell smoke faintly. _We've got to get out of here_, she thought frantically. "Xou! Almu!" she shouted.

"What _was_ that?" Xou asked. Félicie looked at in the dim moonlight coming through the window. He had several cuts, and he was bleeding rather badly from one on his head.

"Take your shirt off and use it to apply pressure to your head," she said. "Almu!" she called again.

This time she faintly heard someone saying, "I'm here! Under the bed!"

She made her way back towards the bed. The smoke was getting much worse. "Xou, go check on the other kids in this hall. Get them away from the building," she said. She pushed at the bed as hard as she could. Almu yelled in pain. "What's wrong?" she asked.

"My leg! It's stuck" he gasped.

The smoke was getting really bad; Félicie's eyes were stinging and she felt the room getting warmer. She felt around the bed until she found Almu's leg. "This is going to hurt," she warned. She managed to lift the bed enough to shove his leg out of the way. He yelped in pain, but she ignored it. She didn't have time to be gentle.

Once his leg was free, she pushed the bed off the rest of him. His right leg was twisted around in a way that made it very clear that it was broken. She pulled his right arm over her shoulder, "Keep your head down low," she told him, and they crawled together into the hallway.

There was smoke everywhere now, and she could hear fire nearby. Everywhere, there were screams of pain and of fear. _I've got to get Almu out first. Dammit, where is Roger when you need him?_

For what seemed like an eternity, they crawled through the hellish maze. The first stairwell they tried was blocked by rubble, and she had to retrace her steps before she found a way down to the first floor. Between the too-close for comfort fire and the smoke, she could barely see anything. Suddenly, a huge, mostly-broken glass window stood before her. She grabbed a heavy candlestick and smashed away the glass from the bottom of the sill. She put Almu through the window, and then jumped through herself.

She landed on some bushes. She stood up and pulled Almu's arm around her shoulders again and ran away from the building. She didn't know how long it would be before the building collapsed. She hadn't run three paces before a spotlight was shone in her eyes. She heard someone call, "There's two!" _Something's wrong_, she thought. _Where are all the fire trucks…?_

She heard several sharp sounds, and pain shot through her. She turned around and tried to run, trying to protect Almu. She felt a searing pain in her leg and fell, dropping Almu. "Run!" she hissed. He tried to crawl away, but gunfire erupted again, this time from a man who was running up to them. Almu collapsed, bleeding from half a dozen injuries.

"No!" she screamed. "You bastard!" She got her good leg under her and lunged at the man. She didn't even feel the bullet which blew into her head.

O O O

From his vantage point, Mikami watched events unfolding. The roof had fallen in, and Mikami thought the south wall would collapse soon. God's enemies who had escaped the fire were strewn on the ground, their names no longer visible. No more had emerged for some time now. The men God had sent were running around the building, whooping wildly, their faces garish in the firelight. _Fools_, Mikami thought. _They are scarcely better than the ones they're killing_. Still, they had served God's purpose.

Mikami heard sirens in the distance. God had made sure that the alarms would be off in the Wammy's House, but someone must have finally noticed the fire on the horizon. He calmly retreated to the nearby woods. God had said that the police might see Mikami if he left by the road, so Mikami was to cut through the woods. When he reached the protection of the trees, he sent Light a text message. Then, he began the long trek back to civilization

O O O

While he was waiting for news, Light was conducting a thorough search of the hotel which had been L's base. He wouldn't have a use for it much longer, so he wanted to find anything which might be useful. So far, he hadn't found anything interesting; the vast majority of the rooms were empty.

As Light turned a corner, he found himself facing a room with a door which was different from the others. There was a thumbprint scan instead of a standard door key port, and there was a retina scanner instead of a peephole. _L's room_, Light though with satisfaction.

Light went to get some tools, and began to work on hotwiring the locks. Ryuk loomed behind him. "Whatcha working on?" he asked.

"This is the door to L's room," Light said. "There may be something useful inside."

"Oh," said Ryuk, and he zoomed through the door. He reappeared after a few moments. "There's lots of interesting things in there," he said, chuckling.

_Idiot_, Light thought irritably. He wasn't going to demean himself by asking Ryuk to unlock the door for him. Besides, Ryuk would refuse, anyway.

After several hours of work, Light had managed to disarm the thumbprint lock. The retina scan was proving more difficult.

Just as Light was about ready to give up, his cell phone beeped. It was a text message from Mikami: **It is finished.**

Light left his tools by the door and returned to the central control area. He turned on the television, which was still set to display BBC. At first, it was merely showing a segment on an outbreak of plague in Ethiopia. The report cut abruptly to two news anchors. "This just in," one said. "An attack has been made on an orphanage in City of Winchester district. Emergency responders answered a call shortly after midnight, and arrived to find the building in flames. Police say that armed gunmen mowed down any who emerged from the blaze, adults and children alike. Michael Walker on the scene."

The image changed to an image of the reporter, with the Wammy's House blazing in the background. "Jan, this is a really bad situation. The call clearly came long after the fire actually started. We don't yet have any information about how it was started, but police have taken seventeen men into custody. The motivation behind this horrific crime is not yet known. We do know that as of yet, no survivors have been found."

Light turned off the television and sat in silence for a moment. Then, he began to laugh. "All my enemies are dead, Ryuk. Every one of them. L so carefully, so very carefully gathered up all his successors in one place, and I've killed them all without even knowing their names or faces! What do you think of that, L?" he turned and shouted to the empty hotel. "I've won, L! I've won!" His voice echoed hollowly through the empty building.

As Light turned back to the now-blank display, Ryuk commented, "So, _now_ there won't be anything interesting to see?"

"What do you mean, Ryuk?" he said. "From now on, you'll get to see me build my new world."

"Yes, you said that before," Ryuk said.

Light ignored him, picked up his tools, and went back to work.

O O O

It was one in the morning and Simo was asleep. She was jarred awake suddenly by pounding on her apartment door. Matt was yelling, "Simo! Wake up!"

Irritated, she threw on a bathrobe and stormed to the door. She pulled it open. "Are you out of your mind?" she demanded. "Do you have any _idea_ what time it is?"

"Simo, you need to come see this," he said. Her still-sleepy mind processed his appearance. He was genuinely upset, and that meant that something really terrible must have happened. Simo grabbed her key from a ring by the door and went to Matt's apartment.

The television was set to a news station showing a picture of the remnants of a burning building, surrounded by firefighters. Suddenly, her mind registered the headline: **Attack on British Orphanage**.

"Oh, no," she said, suddenly sick. "Oh, God, no, no, no…" As if hypnotized, she read the news ticker: "Armed gunmen detonated multiple bombs inside the orphanage, shot any who escaped the flames…Leader Peter Evans claims to have been acting on the instructions of Kira…Raid occurred at approximately 10 PM GMT last night."

Her whole body felt cold as ice. Everyone she had ever known, except Matt, was dead. Everyone… She'd never been close to any of the others, but she had grown up with them. They were rivals, but they understood and respected each other in a way that few outsiders could understand. And Roger…he was the closest thing Simo ever had to a father.

_Why?_ She asked herself. The central purpose of Wammy's House was to find and train L's successor , but the majority of the children there would never become detectives. She realized that she was clenching her fists so tightly that her nails were digging into her skin. She tried to loosen her hands, but taking a deep breath threatened to bring up tears. If she had to cry, she didn't want to do it in front of Matt. She got up and headed for the door.

"Simo, you OK?" he asked. She nodded. It wasn't true, and they both knew it, but she appreciated his question.

She went back into her apartment. She locked the door behind her, not bothering to turn on the lights. She sat on the floor in the middle of the room and wrapped her arms around her legs. Her hair fell around her face. She began to cry, quietly at first, then louder. She was surprised to find that sobs were shaking her whole body; she hadn't cried like this since she was four.

When her tears had grown quiet again, she began to think about what this meant. _Near must be dead_, she realized. _Kira would never dare to act so boldly if Near was alive_. She could not muster much grief for his death, but he was competent enough. _I am L now,_ she realized. She was surprised at the emotional response her realization provoked; she felt pride, a little excitement, but mostly a massive weight of responsibility.

She got up and wiped her eyes firmly, blinking back a few more rebellious tears. _Well, that's enough emotion for one day_, she told herself firmly. She walked back to Matt's apartment and knocked on his door. He opened it almost immediately, a curious look in his eyes. "Let's get to work," Simo said.


End file.
